Bikini Body Diet Torture: Ibiza, Spain

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To hell and back on my bikini body diet (in preparation for Ibiza, Spain)

As I write this, I am streamlining the focus of my eyes towards my computer screen, and my computer screen only.  Why?  Because someone sitting close by is eating a cupcake.  This is the hardest part of my bikini body diet.  Nothing has come close to being this difficult.  But watching you devour a wickedly calorific, cream-topped bun right in front of me…..quite frankly, you deserve to be punched in the face.

And you know who you are.

This self-inflicted mental torment is all in aid of my six night Ibiza clubbing stint in Spain.  With 12 days to go, the cracks of my Ibiza diet are really starting to show.  Now without telling you directly (yes, you), I am now letting you know through the safety of cyberspace, that I, will at any moment rugby tackle you to the ground, stamp on your cream covered face with my shoe, and inhale that cake for myself.  That’s right, inhale.  And after that, I will march myself over to Bettys of Harrogate and just breathe in their entire stock count, before returning to penalise you further for having an afternoon hit in front of a recovering cake addict.

My Bikini Body Diet: Ibiza Diet from Hell

So what has my bikini body diet consisted of to create such torment?  I sincerely hope you can take my rants in jest.  Although that doesn’t take away from the fact that eating desserts within a two mile radius of me is simply ILLEGAL.

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My Ibiza diet has been a serious lack of carbs, a copious amount of rabbit food, cayenne pepper in every single dish (sweet or savoury), green tea instead of my usual Yorkshire brew, a lack of driving (just a lot of walking), evening runs and lengthy weekend hikes, and absolutely NO cake, NO sweets and NO vanilla slices whatsoever.  And how long have I been doing this? Just over a week.

Yes, I can tone up in two weeks. Yes, I’ve done it before.  If you want to punish me for still having a great relationship with my metabolism, do it at your peril. Just don’t hold me responsible for any cupcake fuelled attacks – because I am unpredictable right now.

Ibiza Clubbing Holiday Planning: Poor and Peckish

If you’ve ever planned a holiday to Ibiza, you will know that it’s extremely time consuming putting together the perfect party calendar and wrenching every last penny to cover the expenses.  On top of the no-cake-policy and the strict bikini body diet, life can be pretty gloomy.

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So, just in case you didn’t know, I’m off to Ibiza in 12 days.  I (the unstoppable cake monster) am not allowed to consume cake.  I MUST stick to my Ibiza diet. You eat cake in front of me and you curse to my face.

Eating cake = swearing.  Talking about cake = bad language.  Thinking about cake = frowned upon.

I hope you understand. Many thanks.